


Set Me Free

by CatchingFlames



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:18:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatchingFlames/pseuds/CatchingFlames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss Everdeen is trapped in a toxic relationship with Cato Robertson and is struggling to break free. Will she ever be able to be free of him or will the memories leave lingering effects that push her over the edge? Join her as she learns how to trust again and eventually how to love without the unwanted threat of abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

My matted brown hair flows clumsily around my face in the slight breeze coming in from the window on my right. Of course it's only open a couple of inches because of the window lock; can't have me escaping now, can we? The tracks of blood on my hairline still remain no matter how much I try to rid of the evidence of my latest mistake.

Splashing cold water on my face does nothing to bring me back to the present and out of my trance, I'm still locked up in my memories of last night. It was worse this time because he came back drunk, even bought two of his friends along, had them watch while I suffer, whilst he taunted me. You'd hope they'd cut in, tell him enough is enough, but no. They stood, snickering, even when he started to hurt me physically as well as mentally. It was all just a big game to then, cheering him on when I fell, almost as if they were watching a football match supporting their favored team. Ask them, why? And they'll say, "It's fine, we're just teaching her who's in charge, only asserting our dominance, keeping me in line. Where's the harm in that?"

Picking up the blade from where it lay beside the sink, it's funny, such a dark object that can draw out pain even in the strongest surrounded by the pure white that can be recognised as hope, joy and sometimes even love but all that disappeared from my life too long ago.

I look at the bruised face in the mirror noticing how my grey eyes lack their usual fire that always burned so bright, but that has died down now, no, diminished is a better word, diminished along with my old self and now I'm confined to an ongoing cycle of pain and suffering trapped in this house filled with only lonely thoughts and a broken mind to accompany me.

I inhale sharply as I bring the blade across the skin on my wrist, I have tried to stop before, but it just leads to more outbursts and more outbursts lead to more pain so it's easier if I continue because at least I'm experiencing pain from my own hand not his.

The blade is like an attempt to mitigate the torment I experience. It's like a drug pulsing, coursing through my veins. I can't get enough. I can feel it gloating me on further , telling to go deeper and it's all I can do to not ignore it. And as the thick red substance rolls down my arm and drips from my fingertips a sense of relief fills me. People say it doesn't help but they don't know, they don't know how it feels. The anticipation, the experience, the release momentarily freeing me from the real world. And I crave it. Every second, every sensation, every cut. I crave it and I can't stop.

Each strike of the blade frees me from a different memory.

The first hit and after when he begged for my forgiveness, saying he didn't mean to. I scoff at that now.

When he crushed my phone saying I wasn't aloud to contact any friends or family; they'd only try to keep us apart if they found out, after all we were perfect for each other.

When he came back drunk and...I'm overcome with disgust and self loathing as I recall that night.

_I'm scrubbing furiously at another blood stain permanently embedded on the carpet that I've been ordered to clean up otherwise I know the consequences, after all this mark is a reminder of them. I've been scrubbing for at least an hour, the skin on my knuckles has now become raw and the cloth worn down._

_I'm yanked aggressively from the floor by my hair and thrown into the wall. I grit my teeth to hold in my yelp; I've recently learned that making noise only renders the beatings worse._

_Cato's body is pressed up against mine a hand still clenched in my hair, his teeth barred. I'm forced to look in Cato's dark blue iris' only the pupil has managed to overtake most of the eye and I'm just staring into a pit of black that's never ending and the same eyes that were once filled with love are now obscured by loathing._

_"What the fuck?" He growled stray spots of spit hitting me in the face, "I thought I told you to have this cleaned by the time I came back?" I try to cower into the corner but his body is blocking my only exit, restricted me from moving, "Well?"_

_"I-, I-, I'm sorry," I somehow manage to stutter out, my voice sounding hoarse._

_His grip on my hair tightens in response._

_"Baby, you know I love you and I hate it when you make me do this, but you left me no choice," His tone does nothing to support this statement._

_"N-, N-, No, please Cat-, Cato, I'm-" I cry out as a sharp pain sears through my head, I reach my hand up the point of pressure only to take it away bloody._

_"What. Did. I. Say. About. Noise." With each word my head strikes the dim yellow wall and black dots enter my field of vision._

_I get dragged to the bedroom by the fistful of hair Cato still has a hold off and all the remaining colour, I'm sure, has just drained from my face as he makes his intentions clear by rubbing his hardness into my thigh._

_"Please," I whisper brokenly as I'm pushed onto the bed, I can feel the sheets around me soaking up the blood leaking freely from my head, with nothing to staunch the flow my vision becomes hazy. He trails his hand down my arm and across to my breast, clutching it so hard, it's probable that it will bruise by morning._

_"Cato. Stop!" I say more forcefully this time but my voice still sounding uneasy. As I hear his belt belt buckle come undone all I can think is, why me? What did I do to deserve this? What wrong turn did I take to end up in this position?_

_He continues to ignore my pleas as he pulls down his trousers and mine follow shortly, all my attempts of thrashing around fail as he grips my ankles to the point of pain. His fingers begin to make the make the journey up my legs, "None of that now Baby," My skin crawls and he tears of my pants. Whimpers arise from within and my vision goes black as he spreads my legs forcefully._

_I can't see but somehow I'm being tortured by being able to still hear and feel this whole experiance. Unconsciously, sobs are wracking my body._

_"Shh, shh. I know this is how you like it."_

_I fell him plunge into me and once again I cry out from the force, surely tearing something but luckily he takes this as a sound of pleasure, so I don't get another slap...yet. His hand is splayed out across my face forcing it into the blood soaked pillow at an odd angle that is beginning to my neck ache. His movements become hurried as he nears his release but all I can feel oncoming is pain that makes my breathing harden and every movement increasing the intensity of it. Pounding into me he calls out over and over but his cruel deep groans are becoming more and more distant and the black behind my eyelids somehow deepening and myself slipping further into the darkness, but not before I feel Cato's weight collapse on top of me with one last final groan and the sounds of heavy breathing echoing around my ear._

I feel violated whenever I recall it, but it's not a memory I can easily forget.

I get another cut for when he began barricading me in the house, telling me it was for the best, he was just protecting me and another cut for the broken ribs I got for fighting back. To this day it still burns when I breathe in and a horrible purple bruise still covers the majority of my chest. Cato refused to take me to the hospital because it would only lead to unwanted questions and possibly an escape from him.

I was so naive for believing all the lies he fed me, when he'd beg for forgiveness saying it would never happen again and I believed him. I believed him like the stupid, juvenile girl I was. But now I've learned to not trust anyone, no matter how perfect and normal they seem everyone has their inner demons, a side of them they don't want anyone to see until it's too late for them to call for help as they have already been ensnared like the helpless prey they are.

The tears begin falling without permission. When I see this in the mirror, the blade gets thrown across the room onto the white tilled flooring and I crouch in the corner curled into a ball as if it would take me away form this sick place we call the world and I scream. I scream for the family I'll never see again. I scream for the mistake I made of trusting him and moving across the country. I scream for all the pain I've had to endure. And I scream because I should have never shown any weakness, that way he never would of been able to break me, but it's too late for that revelation. I just scream until my throat burns unbearably and I hear the lock on the front door turn and click into place. He's here. 


	2. Chapter 2

My heart accelerates within my chest as I hear his footsteps growing louder, the sound reverberating through the flat. The black sleeves on my shirt get pulled down clumsily and I hiss when they brush against the cuts. I don't have enough time to cover them properly, for now sleeves will have to suffice.

I pull myself up from the corner of the bathroom where I laid cowering and hurry from the room not bothering to hide the fact I've been crying. I find him in the kitchen staring at the empty table in the corner not allowing his face to convey any sort of emotion. He slowly turns around to face me, his eyes slowly becoming darker and more sinister. Then it hits me.

Shit.

This is not going to end well. I search my mind hurriedly, filtering through everything, seeking out a decent excuse.

"I..." But my mouth goes dry and I'm unable to form any words.

Cato's looking at me expectantly, but we both know that no matter what I say it wont evade the inevitable.

"Kat," My name on his tongue sends a shiver down my spine, "I do everything for you and all I ask in turn is that you tidy my house and have food prepared for when I arrive home. Do you really think that's too much to ask of you? Especially after everything I have done for you?"

I shake my head at him.

"Good. So why has this not happened?"

I open and close my mouth numerous times, I see his facial expression grow darker each time it does.

He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head, "Why must you almost make everything so difficult?" Then Cato chuckles darkly.

He enjoys this. Every second of this taunting. The fact that I loathe it just heightens the fun. I used to be his love, his one and only but now, now I'm just his punching bag. A way to get rid of a hard day at work or even a way to fill the long hours at home with some entertainment.

My muscles tense, anticipating the first hit, awaiting the impact. The blemishes on my arm become irritant, but I hardly notice them over the pounding in my ears and I dare not move or it will be an excuse for him to strike. After all it is just his self-preservation.

"I'm feeling somewhat, generous tonight, so you can go but," Taking a step closer, he narrows his eyes at me, "If it ever happens again just know, there will be serious repercussions." As a warning he forces me back against the counter then turns sharply and heads into the living room.

It's the same everyday, he comes home, eats the dinner I make, mindlessly watch TV then drinks himself into an oblivion and that's when the real fun begins. He'll actively seek out the smallest thing I've done wrong or that doesn't meet his standards and then I'll be made to pay. I wish I could say it's not his fault, that he's inebriated, he doesn't know what he's doing but it's all the same even if he hasn't been drinking.

I quickly get to work on preparing a beef stew for dinner ignoring the throbbing sensation in my arms but it seems to explode with the smallest of movements. Trembling, I take a bowl out to where Cato sits in the living room, praying that it meets his standards, and he just snatches it from my hands without lifting his attention from the TV. Maybe it's not going to be that bad tonight or is this just the calm before the storm? Not wanting to chance anything I move hurriedly back into the kitchen.

Precariously, I get a bowl from the cupboard trying not to be too eager in my movements and avoiding any clanking , I place it on the marble island counter top. It's been days since he's let me have a proper meal because it's just a waste of good money and food when used on me I only get the odd cracker here and there. Then, slowly I use the ladle to scoop some of the mouthwatering stew into my bowl and I can see the steam rising from the dish. I inhale the scent deeply, savoring every second of it because if I get caught, rest assured, I wont be enjoying anything this good for a while.

I take the bowl over to the small two seater table and pull out a chair, wincing when it scrapes against the floor tiles. Once sat a breath is released from my mouth and I pick up my spoon closing my eyes to further enhance the flavor.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you," The spoon slips from my grip and lands with a thud.

This is not good. My eyes remain shut, too afraid to see his endless black pools that are rarely filled with anything other than rage or lust. For a moment the world around me doesn't exists and I'm back with my family listening to my Dads stupid jokes.

"How dare you come in here and eat the food that I earn, that I pay for, whilst you sit on your ass all day doing nothing but taking this life for granted!" He spits the words in my face I hear something shatter against a wall which I assume to be my bowl. Although can't see him through my closed eyes, I can sense how close he is, fell his breath caressing my face making me whimper,

"You never show any respect for me," As he's saying this something unexpected in me just snaps and I push out of my chair now standing in front of him but instead of cowering, for once, I'm stood tall. How dare he say I show no respect for him?f " But without me you are nothing, you are alone, you have no-one." His breathing is steady and evenly paced out whereas mine is coming in as short ragged burst. Then I hear footsteps growing distant and heading towards where I assume to be the lounge.

Oh no, I've done it now.

I run after him stumbling into the couch. He's stood by the fireplace moving a marble into the glass vase on there.

Why did I think it was a good idea to eat? Stupid, stupid, stupid. I can never do anything right.

"I'm feeling generous tonight, so you are only getting one for eating my food," Generous? Is that why there are already five marbles in there?

He turns to face me, his eyes scarily calm, "What do you say?" He's reprimanding me now as if I'm a little child.

I must of taken too long to answer because he takes a threatening step forward, "What do you say?" He repeats slowly.

"T-, Th-, Thank you."

"Good. Now if that ever happens again, just know, I wont be so kind with the punishment," I nod my head in reply as he moves back to the couch.

I shakily take a seat next to him, not seeing, not hearing, just fearing tonight when he counts up the marbles I've collected.

"Kat, come here," Cato calls from his bedroom. One deep breath, in and out, then another and another.

I managed to get one more marble since earlier, for what I don't know. I get them for the simplest things now. When he first started this I thought he was joking so I did everything I could to get marbles, it was just a game. Come the end of the day, I found out how serious he really was.

When I walk in he has the vase of marbles on his bed and he stands by it looking at me expectantly. One by one he removes them counting, just like I'll have to do in a minute.

"I'm so disappointed in you Kat. Seven. Seven marbles. Why must you put yourself through this? You used to be such a good girl," Without any warning he slaps me across the face and it stings a little. Then he does it again.

"Count!"

In an emotionless voice I begin counting and by the time he gets out his belt my body has shut down. I feel numb. Everything begins to blur and only the sound of leather meeting flesh reminds me of where I am. The number seven comes and goes passing through my lips but he does not relent. Eventually I succumb to darkness.

A bright light peeks through my eyelids and my bed is very uncomfortable. I hear a banging resonating from somewhere in the house and I assume it's my Dad making his chocolate chip pancakes. Slowly, I drag my eyes open to be hit with the sudden realisation of where I am. Right. Cato's house/prison. The door opens and in storm he walks in carrying a glass of milk which is placed on the floor beside me. That must be why I'm so uncomfortable.

He looks me up and down as if I'm some piece of crap, "Cover yourself up, you look disgusting."

I look down and barely notice I'm naked. Hardly surprising  When I first met Cato, I wouldn't have pegged him for someone who takes advantage of unconscious girls, but then again, I never thought he would turn abusive either.

Once I'm dressed in my tattered clothes I look around to see what my life has come to. From an outsiders point of view, I probably look like some twenty-something who can't even stand up to their own boyfriend, controlled by fear. That's most likely right. But I don't want to be that person anymore. I want my family back. I want my job back. I want my life back. Not the one where I'm broken, stuck, confused. Why can't I have my fight back? The one that led me into this mess. If she could see me now she'd tell me to escape any way I can, in fact she did. My mum begged me not to move in with him, told me he wasn't right I was to stubborn to listen, thought I knew best, I was only eighteen at that time and stupidly thought I was in love too. But I'm going to listen to her now, I'm going to break free of this monotonous cycle that is called my life. How am I supposed to get out of here though? I look around the room I'm in and search desperately for something that holds the answer.

First I'll need money.

I tried to escape once before, I gathered any money I could find and stuffed it into a sock. Before I could even walk out the front door he caught me and made sure I was too scared to try again. The Doctor was told I fell down our stairs. The house doesn't even have stairs.

I locate the lose floorboard I put the money under and stuff it in my bra.

Second I need a weapon. Well I can't say I have any of them lying around here and I doubt a butter knife will be much help. It's then that I notice in my hurry to lift the floorboard I knocked over the glass. Great, that'll be another marble. Wait. The glass! I could smash that and use it as a weapon!

I walk quietly over to the bathroom with glass in hand and flush the toilet at the same time as I smash the glass against the top of it. Standing still for a few minutes with bated breath I wait for any sign that he heard. After I'm sure I throw open the bathroom cupboard and look for anything else I could use. Deodorant, that will do.

I figured if I had any chance of escape it would be at night, then I can hide in the dark and Cato will be drunk.

I walk up where he's sat on the couch once again staring at the TV screen with glassed over eyes. The spray and glass are hid behind my back, "I'm sorry I've been so childish lately Cato," He looks up to me startled and shocked, "I don't mean to be, I've just be really tired."

"Do you really think that's a good enough excuse?"

I take a step forward and embrace him making sure he doesn't notice the items in my hands, "I really do love you," He starts to losen his hold but I tighten mine keeping him there.

It's now or never. I pull the glass back far enough then thrust it into his shoulder. As a reflex he releases his hold on me, "Ahhh, you little slut. What was that for?" I spray the deodorant in his eyes which immediately turn red and inflamed. That's when he loses it.

"You Bitch," He screams and launches himself at me taking use both to the ground and then he locks me in his steel arms. I can't hear any of the obscene words he throwing at me over the the pounding in my ears. I push the glass further into his shoulder in order to loosen his grip so I can slide out. What do I do now? Cato's rolling  around on the floor and I'm unarmed, I didn't counter this part into my plan.

I look around helplessly, begging silently for some way of escape. If I don't get out here now I doubt there will be a tomorrow for me. Out of the corner of my eye the vase catches the light and grabs my attention. Maybe if I use enough force I can knock him out for long enough. Once I'v got it securely in my hand something deathly cold warps around my ankle and sends goosebumps crawling up my skin, and then I'm sprawled out on the floor empty handed. No, no,no, this isn't supposed to happen. The pressure around my ankle increases and I cry out as a sharp pain pierces through my leg.

The vase is just within my reach and I roll it closer using my fingertips, looking over to Cato, who is led on my lower half of my body preventing me from moving, I see his eyes darken with understanding and locking on the vase. He struggles to reach up and grab it but then see's it as useless and takes to clawing at my legs creating new holes in the material. Taking a deep breath I hope for the best and bring the vase down to connect with the back of his head. It shatters around him and mixes with red liquid that's on the carpet, the marbles bounce across the floor and the slowly come to a halt  My breath is coming out in heavy, quick gasps. His head lolls to the side as the rest of his body becomes limp on top of me. Using the residue adrenaline running through my blood stream, I manage to roll out from under his body although. I try to stand but quickly realise my legs are numb as I collapse to the floor. Keys, where are the keys? I need them if I'm to get out of here. I crawl across to his lifeless body and search through all the pockets. Nothing. Getting up on unsteady legs I clumsily walk over to the front door but still nothing. A flickering light down the hall catches my eye and I walk towards it. His room. I empty drawers. Upturn the bed. Search through bags. Nothing. Where are the damn keys? Heading towards the kitchen I find them laid out in the center of the table. Groaning. Coming from the lounge. I fall numerous times in my pursuit to the door. Seven Keys. Three locks.

I'm not sure how it takes me but I finally manage to throw open the door and am greeted by a gust of the cool, fresh air. But I don't have enough time to take this in as I hear movement coming from the lounge again. I pick a random direction and run. To where- I'm not sure. The only thing I do notice is that we are isolated. There's no sign of civilisation anywhere. Just trees for what looks like miles.

Ignore the pain. Ignore the exhaustion.

Just keep going.

Don't stop.

Can't stop.

Too dark. Can't see.

Where am I going?

Twigs snapping behind me.

Run.

Faster. Faster.

Need to find home.

Mum, Dad, Prim, Gale.

Shouts coming from behind. Multiple shouts.

Push yourself harder. He can take you again.

My legs are numb. I need to stop. I can't stop. My head is telling me I've forgotten something. What? I keep running, it's all I can do.

I come to a stop when I reach a deserted road. Home is in Colorado. No signs anywhere. I need to get there. Dread trickles through me as I realise, I have no idea where I am.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun has risen and set two times since I've left that place.

It has been two days since I've eaten or drunk or even seen any signs or civilization.

Two days since I broke free of his hold, and two days since I signed my death certificate. Never would I have thought that many trials would still lie ahead of me.

Little did I know that when I did leave there would be nowhere to purchase food or even a bus ticket. Only woods. Little did I know that infection could set in, in my multiple injuries and how fatal this could be. Or maybe I'm just lucky. Instead of sitting and waiting for death knowing it's going to come, I'll be able to live with some sense of normality and not worry about death.

Only two days have been and gone, but I don't know how much longer until I succumb to the aches in my bones, the onslaught of pain and the ever so slowly moving numbness that's creeping up on me. It becomes more of a struggle each minute to will my lead limbs to keep functioning. There's always that part of me that says:  _Just do it, just give up._ And I know that I will sooner or later, but I don't know which will be worse. So for now I push on-wards. If not for myself, then for my family. How would they feel to know that I managed to come so far but then gave up? Especially when I'm on the precipice of freedom.

A freedom so sweet that anything, even a release from my turmoil, pales in comparison.

A freedom I covet.

My head spins as I jostled forward and over a tree root buried in the soil and the piercing pain in my ankle increases by a tenfold. I land on my already bruised knees but force myself to keep moving, for Cato surely has not stopped seeking me out yet. My heart clenches at that thought. I know I wont survive if he finds me. But that only spurs me on more as I struggle to stand up, but once I do my legs collapse beneath me and I crumple to the ground, gripping my ankle, pleading for the strength to carry on.

_Five seconds of weakness, that's all you get, and then you run, walk, crawl. Do anything you can to ensure your escape._

_One._  I breathe in.

_Two._ I release my ankle.

_Three._  I breathe out.

_Four._  I ignore any aches and pains.

_Five._ I get onto all fours and crawl.

Mud decorates my clothes, and my hair tangles into knots, thorns pierce my skin, and my breath comes out in pants until I see an opening in the trees. All movement stops and it seems like an eternity before I can really grasp what this means. Then time starts again and the only indicator that this is real is my pulse pounding in my ears and the burning in my muscles. With a renewed strength I scurry forward as fast as I can through the trees, only to find something that sends all hope crashing to the ground.

More fucking trees and bushes surrounding a small field full of dead grass. I squeeze my eyes close and then open them again, hoping for a shred of light in this darkness.

No gates. No benches. No roads. No nothing.

I'm never the kind that longs for the ludicrous but just once, just  _this_  once, can't I receive what I truly desire?

Ask anyone what they long for and say they'll frivolous, trivial things, such as, love, money, intelligence. All these things are easily achievable by said person. Me? I don't want any of those nonsensical things. A promise of hope, freedom, the truth. These are more complex, but that's all I ask.

I'm also not one to cry, but, at that moment it's all I can think to do.

* * *

_"Mum?" I called through the house, "Dad?"_

_"We're in the lounge, Katniss," Came her reply._

_I walked into the lounge to see her sat on the couch with Prim watching TV and my Dad fiddling with the DVD player attempting to get it to work, I assumed._

_I gripped my hands in front of me and began playing with my fingers- a nervous habit of mine, "I have something I want to tell you," Immediately all eyes snapped to me, Prim looking curious, Dad looking worried and Mum looking horrified._

_I struggled for words for a few moments, "Well, I'm going to-"_

_"Please do not tell me you're pregnant!" My Mum suddenly cut in and gazed furiously down at my stomach._

_"No! I'm only eighteen!" I shouted, ashamed my Mother would ever think that._

_"Well then, what's got you all worked worked up then if you're not pregnant? Ade, tell her!" She looks to my Father seeking his reproach._

_"Now, Katniss, me and your Mother will support you in any way we can."_

_"I. Am. Not. Pregnant. I am moving with Cato to Chicago." The shock and disapproval on their faces is clearly displayed. I would later find out that Chicago was not where we were going._

_"Why?" My Father questions whilst Mums face turns redder._

_"He's going to university there and asked me to join him. He already owns a flat and wants me to move in with him."_

_"No," Mother immediately replies._

_"And why not? I'm eighteen, an adult, I can do what I want," All my life she's let me do whatever I liked, never cared what time I got home or where I was. So why care now? I'll finally be out of her way._

_"You have only known that boy a month. A month! You will not move across the country with him, it's not right, he's not right."_

_"Not right?" I step closer to where she's now standing, "Not right? Do want to know what's not right? You! You call yourself my Mother yet you ignore me for my whole childhood, you're lucky I still had Dad to rely on. You're useless. You've always wanted a prodigy child, I was never good enough, well now you have Prim so I'm no longer needed." She just stands there looking at me with blank eyes, but nobody could have prepared me for how much more that hurt than her actually looking at me hatefully. I wanted her to tell me I was wrong, that she loves me or scream at me and say she hates me and always has. But instead she stands and does nothing. Just like she has all my life._

_"Prim, I love you and I promise to call you everyday. Dad, I love you and please look after Prim. Mum...have a nice life." I don't look at either of them as I say my goodbye's because I know if I do, I wont be able to bring myself to leave and I'll be begging for mum's forgiveness,_

_I turn around and head out the door to where Cato is waiting for me with a smile on his face._

_"Katniss, wait!" My Dad shouts, but I continue on and into Cato's car._

* * *

By the third rising of the sun I'm sat in the same spot only now instead of my body shaking violently from sobs, it's from the constant chill that clings to my bones. If hunger doesn't kill me first, pneumonia will.

* * *

When the sun reaches the halfway point in the sky, I pull myself together and after a long motivational speech, to myself, I advance on-wards on my hands and knees although they have been rubbed raw.

Dizziness overtakes me and the planes of grass and trees seem to merge together whilst the ground feels as if it's tipping below me, but I push on, attempt to tough it out, like my Dad would've said. It could have been only seconds later, or hours, but the only thing my hazy brain can really register is the blue eyes and blonde hair that is heading straight for me and the frustrated shouts. Before the darkness can claim me my cracked lips and sore throat let out one last plea for help, or perhaps it was for mercy? I can no longer decipher. It figures that the last thing I'd see before I die would be Cato's face.

How fitting.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to bring her," A deep voice breaks through the confines of darkness.

"Why not to a hospital?"

"As soon as I mentioned it she started freaking out, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't urgent. Please, just help me."

"Fine, bring her in. Is that...? Katniss?"

* * *

"Those will need to be stitched, the bruising looks pretty severe, and her ankle. Jesus, why didn't you just take her there, she's hardly coherent. You would have been fine." The voice sounds familiar and urgent, but filled with so much pain. I preferred that darkness, it was peaceful, comforting.

"No, no hospital," I manage to mumble through the fog that has consumed me and prevents me from opening my eyes.

"Kat? Kat can you here me?" That's what  _he_  calls me, I don't want to be back. Too much pain.

"Is that, is that a hand print?"

* * *

_"You're trash, that's all you'll ever be. You're lucky I keep you."_

_"Your family hates you. They never wanted you, that's why they don't call anymore."_

_"You deserve every bruise and break I give you, you whiny bitch."_

_"They'll never find out, I intend to keep you here for when I get bored and need a whore."_

* * *

"Are you sure this is healthy, she's been out for over a day?"

"She's probably exhausted, there's no sign of civilization for miles from where you found her. She was probably out there for days. If you hadn't found her..."

"I know. Shouldn't we call her family?"

"When she left, they weren't exactly on the best of terms. I don't think it will help having them here."

* * *

Finally managing to break through the barrier between consciousness and delusions, I sit up from where I'm laying only to hiss from the tearing feeling on my back and the deep aches in my bones.

"Hello," I somehow manage to croak out although my throat feels as if it's burning.

No response. I squint my eyes to see if it makes my vision any clearer but it only serves to make my head spin. Slowly as my vision accommodates the darkness that engulfs the room seems to dissipate slightly. I sift through my brain attempting to remember what happened, Cato, plotting against him, escaping, running, collapsing, Cato's face, and then my mind draws up a blank.

No. No, no, no, no. He found me, after all I did, he found me. And I'm still alive. Why? Sharp, jerky breaths escape me until I'm clawing at my throat gasping for air I'm not receiving. A panic stricken cry bubbles from my throat, and shudders threaten to overtake my being. Suddenly a bright light fills the room along with a dark figure. I'm forcing my eyesight to return and straining my ears to hear what he's saying over my loud panting.

"Katniss, Katniss calm down," These reassuring words don't match my perception of Cato, "It's okay, you're safe," Why would he be comforting me. Then his arm is around my shoulders,, trying to pull me towards his body.

I lurch forward, my ankle giving out beneath me from the unexpected pressure, "No! Stay away!" I shuffle backwards until my back encounters something solid. A wall. He has me cornered now, there's nothing I can do except pull myself into a ball so no damage can be done to anywhere major- a technique I learnt early on in our time together, "Please," I whisper, hating that my voice cracks.

Another set of pounding foot steps rush into the room, "What's happening?" I force my eyes closed not wanting to witness another team beating, "What did you do, Gale?" The voice adapts a threatening tone that I cower away from, "Gale, what did you do?" He repeats again slowly.

"Nothing, I swear. I came in here and she was like this already."

Gale. Why does that name sound so familiar? I wrack my brain for any memory tied to that name, ignoring the quarrel between the two men, until I come up lucky.

_I was seven and he was nine, we were sat in my back garden him teaching me how to make snares. He said they were to catch rabbits with, but I didn't want to have to kill a rabbit._

_"Can't we just catch it and keep it in a cage? I want one as a pet, but Mummy said I'm not old enough! Please? We can share it and take turns to look after it! I promise, Gale," I pleaded, I'd been begging him for over an hour before he finally gave in._

_"Fine, but you wont be able to tell your Mum."_

_"It'll be our secret!" I'd said excited at the concept of mine and Gale's very first secret, I remember thinking 'best friends have secrets, so that means we can be best friends'. I'd always wanted, even as a child, to fit in with the other kids but nobody wanted to be friends with the poor kid._

"Gale?" I murmured, looking up into those easily recognizable grey eyes tainted with flecks of black and silver. In that moment all I wanted was for this to be real, I'd pay any price, sacrifice my few belongings, "Is it really you?"

"Yeah, Katniss, it's me," He responded with a shy smile, to which I gave him a equally shy, teary one.

"I've missed you," My eyes eagerly took in his form, his dark brown hair that's always cut short, his broad shoulders and thin but bulky frame. The last time I saw him he was all gangly legs and arms. I desperately searched for some aspect of him that I recognised. His hands, he still had many scars due to hunting when he was younger. Seeking comfort in the fact that he still the same boy from when we were teenagers, I drew my attention back to his face and his furrowed brow. Immediately suspecting the worse I began to apologise, though I wasn't sure what for. But that only caused a scowl to appear on his face which, in turn, made me begin to shake all over again.

A throat clearing alerted us to the presence of another body in the room, I looked over and upon noticing the figure I shrank back into the wall and whimpered, a man with blue eyes and blonde hair stood in the doorway. All of my senses were alert as soon as I spotted him and that nagging voice in the back of my head begged me not to trust him, which was completely unreasonable seeing as I had just met him. But everything, from his toned frame right down to his big bulky hands, screamed danger and his blue eyes were too similar to Cato's.

"What's wrong?" The blonde man said in a sweet voice.  _Don't listen, don't reply. You'll only make him angry. It's just a ploy, he doesn't want Gale to know I'm not safe around him,_ "Kat?" He tried, seeing as I wasn't responding to him.

"Don't. Don't call me that," I snapped back. He's too much like Cato, I need to get away from here. His eyes darkened and he looked at me intently and I broke from his stare not wanting to see the anger and disgust that's directed at me, "Please, please, don't hurt me. I didn't mean it. You can do whatever you like to me, I don't care. Just don't hurt me."

"Peeta, I think you should go wait in the other room," Gale said.  _Thank God, Gale knows something is up with him._

When I heard the door close I finally looked up from the floor to see Gale sat across from me with his hands in his lap obviously trying to be less intimidating. The expression on his face told me I wasn't going to like the up coming conversation, "Katniss, what happened? I don't see you for four years, haven't spoken to you in three," I flinch at the pain in his voice, pain I caused. I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't want to be like  _him,_  "and then suddenly Peeta turns up on my doorstep with you, unconscious, in his arms, and then on further inspection we find scars, welts, bruises shaped like  _hand prints,_ I think you owe me an explanation."

He can't find out, not like this, nobody wants to be friends, much less know a broken and used person. I'll never be the same old Katniss that Gale knew,  _he_  took that away from me and I hate him for it. He's turned me into an unstable mess, but maybe, just maybe I can convince Gale otherwise. I don't want to lose my best friend- my  _only_  friend.

"I was hunting in the woods, and then, well I don't really remember what happened. Animal attack maybe?" Well, it does sound somewhat plausible and maybe he'll forget about the hand prints.

"Really?" He raises an eyebrow not buying it, "and what about that a minute ago," He waves his hands towards me and instinctively I flinch back. Having just proven that I wont be able to convince him I let my eyes fall to the ground and don't reply hoping against hope that he'll let it go.

"Katniss, please. I'm just trying to help."

"I don't want to talk about it," I reply pathetically, barely able to hide the fear in my voice.

"Was it-, was it  _him_?" My lack of reply is enough of an answer for him, "God dammit," He booms and jumps to his feet. Instantly I go back into the fetal position and let out one long cowardly sounding scream, pretending to be ignorant to every part of my body that protests to the movement.

"I'm going to kill him. I will hunt him down and kill him, I don't care if I get put in prison," A knock on the door stops his rambling and I'm glad, because at that time he reminds me so much of Cato.

"Is everything alright?"

"Peeta, start the car, we're going out," Gale says in a tone I've never before heard him use before, and the only word that could describe it, is deadly.

Peeta walks into the room, cautiously looking at what's going on, his eyes spot Gale pacing and then turn to me and he looks worried, "Gale stop, you're scaring her," Gale doesn't listen though, "Gale you're making Katniss cry, look at what you're doing to her." Gale still fails to respond and continues seething on the spot. Peeta's eyes then turn to me and plead for something, I'm not sure what though. He keeps them locked on mine whilst he slowly starts walking to me with his arms by his sides.

"Katniss, I'm not going to hurt you I swear. I'm just going to take you into the lounge. We need to leave Gale to calm down, okay?" I don't take my eyes off him, following his every movement and tensing when he moves too quickly, "Do want to me to carry you, or can you walk?"

I barely manage to choke out a, "Walk,"

"Okay then, just ignore Gale, he'll be fine in a minute, Just follow me okay?" I hesitantly nod my head, trying not to upset him. I lift myself onto my feet using the wall to brace myself, then take a small step forward only to end up falling as I'm once again reminded about the pain in my ankle. Peeta reaches out his arms and prevents me from landing on my face, instantaneously I become rigid and squeeze my eyes shut. Peeta, upon realising what he's done loosens his hold, "I don't think you're going to be able to walk, I'm going to carry you but it will just be for a few seconds, the couch is right over there," He says gently, "Open your eyes Katniss, look it's just there, do you mind?" I look to see the couch just a few feet away and nod my head knowing I wont make it on my own.

I'm hesitantly pulled into his arms, and find the gesture less frightening than I thought it would be, then I'm deposited on the couch and Peeta sits on an arm chair opposite me.

"Thank you," I whisper, not sure on how I'll be received and sure I will not lay my trust with him yet or maybe ever. His smile is blinding. We sit there for a few minutes waiting for Gale to come out and I look around the room spotting pictures of me and Gale, and some of him with a large group of people.

"Katniss, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I jump at Gales sudden reappearance, "It's just, look at what he's done to you, I'll never forgive myself for not coming after you. I knew something was wrong, but you were so happy," I scoff quietly.

"I really think you should call your Mum, Katniss," Gale looks remorseful, but what does he have to be sorry for?

"No." I say with confidence and my eyes widen noticing I've just disobeyed a direct order, "Sorry," I say quietly.

"I don't want to be pushy, but your injuries are pretty bad and there's nothing we can do, but your Mum's a nurse and there really is something she should tell you."

"I'm fine," An obvious lie that each part of my body can account for.

"You're really not, and I've only seen the obvious wounds so far," His impatience leaks through his calm tone so I agree fearing what he might do.  _He wont do anything, you know that. This is Gale you're talking to, your friend._ That's another thing Cato managed to break, my trust. What are you supposed to do when you can't even trust your best friend?

"And there's something she needs to tell you, though I'm not sure if now is right time. We need to know exactly what happened to  _you_ first."

"Can't you just tell me? Please, I don't want to see her, she knew what would happen, tried to warn me but I didn't listen. I'm stupid, just like he said, he never lies, he was right about everything, I'm the worst daughter ever," Tears begin speeding down my cheeks and the hysteria in my voice is slowly rising, "Please, if you value my sanity, please just tell me," I beg, I'm not beyond begging, not anymore, "Please Gale."

I can see every thought clear as daylight on his face, and know when he resolve finally settles, "Okay," His shoulder sag and he hangs his head as if the weight of his next words pains him both physically and mentally. He takes one long breath before he continues on with the words that will unknowingly shatter my world and rid me of any hope and my only anchor to this world.

"Katniss," He says carefully, slowly, "A few years back, there was an accident and.." he hesitates for a few minutes, opening and closing his mouth, "Your Dad, he..." He finally looks to me, begging me with his eyes not to make him say it aloud. And then it hits me. The only thing that would leave Gale struggling for words.

Death.


End file.
